Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Hamish sat at the kitchen table, ankle crossed over his knee, one hand braced upon his thigh while the fingers of his other hand tapped the table. Chloe was standing in the corner, stripped completely naked, her hands on her bowed head, her shoulders still hitching as she struggled through the last of her tears. Her bottom was swollen, beet red with welted lines where the edge of his belt crisscrossed here and there, especially on the top of her thighs and where the end of his belt had wrapped her bottom to leave its painful kiss on the side of her hip.

She looked every bit the chastened Little girl he knew her to be. He'd seen it in the car when he'd made her hold his belt, bringing the certainty of her impending discipline right to the front of her mind. He'd known her a total of two days, three if one counted the time before midnight at the airport when he'd been so desperate for sleep that he'd bribed her with coffee so he could get a few winks more. He had no business doing this, and if she'd just once told him no–in anything other than her lost Little girl voice–he'd have stopped. He'd have let this whole vacation fantasy he was stubbornly playing along with, for no reason he was ready to face yet, go.

But he wasn't letting it go.

And she wasn't telling him no, except when she was over his knee with his belt cracking hard and fast across her naked bum. Crying and sobbing, and wailing "Please, Daddy" and "I'm so sorry" and once an utterly ridiculous, "I'll never be bad again, I promise!" Every time she cried to him with that special word, "Daddy," mixing with the tears on her lips, it just made it all worse.

Yeah… worse… that was why his cock was hard as a rock and had been from the moment he'd brought her home from the airport.

Adjusting his jeans, he checked the time. It was already two minutes past the five-minute allotment he'd given her, but he wasn't ready to continue yet. He had to get his misbehaving thoughts in order before summoning her back to him.

Jesus, was he really going to do this? Bend her back over his knee for another lesson in obedience she wouldn't soon forget. The buttplug… Had she ever experienced it before? He didn't know, but he was still going to do it. Gentleness, slow force, and a lot of prep time would be the order of the day. After all, he wanted her to feel the mortification, not overwhelming pain.

Christ. Hamish rubbed his face with both hands. He needed to stop this nonsense now, before he went too far.

Hell, they'd both sailed way past that point and there was no going back.

He didn't want to go back.

But what did Chloe want? That was the question. One he desperately needed an answer to, before he did more damage than good. He did not want to hurt her. Not in any way.

Except when she was over his knee, and his throbbing cock was proof enough of that.

Down, laddie , he told himself. He couldn't afford any further intimacy than what he'd already instigated. He was insane–but he liked her. He liked everything about her, especially those moments when she slipped her wee hand into his, letting him lead while she followed on tiny feet half the size of his. The need to protect her was strong, every bit as strong as this burgeoning need to take care of her. He'd felt it this morning when he'd made her breakfast. Once discipline was done, he already knew he would make her dinner too. He saw what she'd bought at the store. He'd be damned if he turned a blind eye while she fed herself on paté pieces her entire vacation long.

He checked his watch. It had been ten minutes and she was calm once more, only sniffling once in a while and no longer wiping at her eyes.

"All right," he said grimly. "Come here."

The table was already set up and ready for this last part of her punishment. He'd chosen a small metal plug, just in case it was her first time, but he'd brought a second larger size just in case the first failed to make an impact and she misbehaved again.

He doubted she would. Chloe wasn't really trying to misbehave at all. She was just a Little girl running wild, without rules or someone who cared enough about her to enforce them. And lord above, as she left the corner and came to him, he could see how truly sorry she was. Naked as the day she was born, she didn't once try to cover either her breasts or her pretty little unshaved pussy. Nor was there the slightest hint of enjoyment anywhere on her face or in the tiny, reluctant steps that brought her inexorably to him. She looked so vulnerable and small, but he knew a secret, something she probably didn't know herself: she'd gotten wet as wet could be right from the very first slap of his broad hand to the very last lash of his belt across her ass.

Getting hard in response to that had been impossible to stop. Already the confines of his pants were tightening as his cock stirred, swelling in anticipation.

"Come, mo leannan ." He beckoned, the endearment–sweetheart–falling so easily from his lips that he just couldn't catch himself in time. His saving grace was that unless she spoke Gaelic she wouldn't know what he'd said.

Her chin wobbled, but she didn't hesitate. She took his hand, letting herself be drawn in between his knees. When he pulled, she gingerly lowered herself to sit on his right thigh. Her head bowed, she stared at his left leg, her pretty blue eyes growing watery as her bottom lip began wobbling now too.

"Is it okay if I say I'm sorry now?" she whispered thickly.

He stroked her golden hair and all the way down her back. "So long as you keep it respectful, you may say anything you like when you're sitting upon my knee. And after correction, yes, you may say you're sorry, but only if you can also tell me what you're sorry for."

A long tear slipped past her damp lashes, but she quickly swiped it away. Her breath hitched though, and she was quickly coming unraveled as she whispered, "M-may I have a h-h-hug?"

How his heart could both break and swell at the same time, he didn't know. But for her, it did.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Hugs you may have in spades."

When he pulled her to him, she came willingly, flopping sideways against his chest, burrowing against the side of his neck before the dam of her tears broke again. She cried against his collar, one small hand rising to cup the other side of his throat, holding onto him as he rocked her. Kissed the top of her head, then her forehead, the tip of her nose. He stopped himself before his mouth stole this chance to drink from her tear-damp lips.

"It's all right," he soothed. "Daddy has you, and you'll always be safe with Daddy."

Safe, protected… cared for in every way he could think of… until the day she went home.

He locked that out of his mind. Wrapping both arms around her, he held her as close as she could come, tucked up tight against his heart, and he didn't let go until Chloe grudgingly pushed away far enough to sit up.

Scrubbing at her face with the backs of both hands, she studied her hands. "I'm sorry I broke your rules. I ignored you and did my own thing because… because…" Her brow furrowed as she thought. "I don't know why I did it. It's just…" Another tear broke free, but she quickly swiped it away, and finally huffed, "I've been taking care of myself my whole life. I guess I'm not used to rules."

"I suggest you get used to them, or you're going to spend an awful lot of the next week right here, just like this." Hamish tipped his head, wanting to see her expression better. His hand caressed down her back, coming to rest on her hip. "How does knowing that make you feel?"

For the first time, she stole a peek at him. Point one in his favor: she didn't look frightened, mad, outraged, or even just a tiny bit uncertain. Rolling her shoulders, she confessed, "I've never done this before. I'm a little scared, I guess. ‘Specially because, I've, um… never, um…" She was fighting hard not to look at the buttplug on the table.

"I know, and I'm sorry." He wasn't arrogant enough to believe he'd earned the precious gift that was her trust so soon. "It won't be comfortable. That's what makes it a good punishment. But I want you to know, I'll go slow and I promise, I will never give you more than you can take. All right?"

Drawing a deep breath, she nodded. "Yes, Daddy."

That her body relaxed a bit then, pleased him. It meant in some part of her, their limited associate notwithstanding, she did trust him. Or at least, she was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise she would not be this calm.

"Good lassie." He stroked her back again, patting her hip. "When you're ready for us to proceed, stand up. Until then, Daddy's here. Do you have any questions? Do you want to know what's going to happen?"

Chloe shook her head, then stood. "I'm ready, Daddy."

"Are you sure? I've got no problem hugging you a while longer."

She rolled her shoulders again. "If it's all the same to you, Daddy, can we just get it over with? I don't like waiting. It just makes things… scarier."

She didn't look scared though. Mostly, that flicker in her uncertain gaze bespoke nervous anticipation. He'd known enough brats in his time. While at his height of living the kinky lifestyle, he'd gotten good at telling a Little who couldn't wait to get into trouble from one who just wanted their discipline done and over with. Something told him Chloe was very much in that latter group. It was all over her face and that tight grimace that pulled at the corner of her mouth. She wanted it finished so she could crawl back into Daddy's arms, cry out all her tears of shame, and finally be Daddy's good little girl again.

Hamish couldn't have been more proud of her for that.

"Are you sure?" he asked, and she nodded. He couldn't have been more proud of her for that, either. "All right, then." Drawing his legs together, he patted his lap. "Let's begin."